Strange Comforts
by wutaistars
Summary: Summer breaks are not Draco Malfoy's cup of tea. One, his mother is in the habit of throwing boring parties around this time of the year. Two, these usually involve people he sees enough of at school. And three, there are a couple of people he really doesn't mind seeing outside Hogwarts, and that fact is starting to get on his nerves.
1. A Long-Standing Agreement

**CHAPTER ONE**

**A Long-Standing Agreement**

The sun came with a vengeance that year, shining oppressively on anything in its path, driving all living things indoors. The white peacocks, hunting dogs, and winged horses roaming the Malfoy estate have long been taken into their corrals. The fanged geraniums in the flower patches under the windows were not snapping their jaws together, and the honking daffodils were not so much honking as tooting feebly.

Draco was not inclined to leave his room that day. The sweltering temperatures meant one thing; it was That Time of The Year again, and he would not be part of it. Any of it.

He padded around his bedroom in a silk shirt and trousers, a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in one hand and a slice of buttered toast in another. He was not really one for the dailies. The only thing worth reading in the papers was Quidditch news; now, for instance, there is an engaging feature on Otaru Itsuki, who was traded by the Toyohashi Tengu to the Montrose Magpies for an undisclosed sum of Galleons. Otaru was talking about the differences between his home culture and that of the English when Draco heard his outer bedroom door creak open and slam shut.

"Young master Malfoy." Mrs. Sedley, once his governess, now the most senior of the manor's servants, burst through the doors of the inner bedroom. She still makes him nervous, and her naturally pursed lips and narrow eyes are not helping.

"Viola," he said, determined to finish the article on Otaru. He kept his eyes trained on the page, even as the elderly woman started making his bed and throwing his curtains open.

"Young master, breakfast with master Lucius and mistress Narcissa is ready."

"I have had one of the house elves bring me breakfast. Tell mother and father."

"You and I know very well that a slice of bread is not breakfast, sir. The mistress Narcissa is especially keen on your joining them for this morning's meal, as she has news for you."

"What a surprise," Draco murmured, distracted. "I am indisposed towards breakfast with my parents. I intend on pursuing my own projects."

"Sir!" Mrs. Sedley bellowed, making Draco jump. "The mistress looks forward to this time of the year, and it will do you both well if you joined her. Please consider it."

Sighing, he folded up the _Prophet_, handed it to her and started for the door to the hallway. The older woman was calling out to him, presumably to remind him about something or another, but he paid no attention. A quick appearance, that was it. He knew his mother's news, and he disliked staying around for those lame parties. No one else ever came to these gatherings; it was always the same half-dozen families looking down their noses at each other.

Down the white marble staircase with the iron balustrade, he narrowly missed a pair of house elves carrying a Turkish carpet. His forefathers' disapproving eyes followed him down the hall, past the formal dining area, and into the kitchen.

"…and not properly dressed, still in his bedchamber clothes," he heard one portrait sniff.

The kitchen's familiar black and green tiled fireplace, matching dining table, and the aroma of bacon, sausages, black pudding, waffles, eggs, and corn muffins greeted him as he entered. On the walls, there were no implements; this kitchen was for entertaining. The real cooking happened in the dungeon, where a retinue of house elves worked round the clock.

"Draco, how wonderful of you to join us." Narcissa Malfoy, already resplendent despite the early morning, swept up from her seat to slightly graze her son's cheeks with her own. She led him to the table, where Lucius was already seated. He was dealing with a thick piece of bacon and did not look up when Draco came in.

"Would not miss it for the world," he said, smiling perfunctorily. He sat, loaded his plate up with eggs and a couple of muffins, and commenced an assault on his food similar to Lucius'.

"As scheduled, we will be having our annual Erumpent hunt. Draco, I will be inviting the usual guests over. I hope you make them feel welcome," said Narcissa.

He did not reply, choosing to slather a muffin with butter and biting into it than replying. If he goes through the motions successfully, he can slip away for a few hours before he has to be Mr. Golden Boy. He nods and smiles with his mouth closed.

"There is talk that you might be Prefect of Slytherin house," his father said, not once looking at him. "You had better be, and a damn brilliant one."

"Yes, father."

"I hear there might be—improvements in the faculty roster this year," his father smirked. "The Minister has approved of several recommendations by the school governors."

"Are they finally sacking that fool Hagrid?"

Lucius did not answer, and Draco knew that was it. Finally—he never liked the blustery old buffoon, and the hippogriff incident was still a sore spot. Some bold Slytherins from the upper years still hinted at it. Things were looking up yet.

"Well, that's good news and all, but please be at the front hall for afternoon tea. We need to welcome our guests properly, what with the fiasco two years back, and the Bulstrodes doing splendidly at their own hunt last year."

"Yes, mother."

Narcissa smiled, kissed Draco and Lucius on the cheek, and left the kitchen, presumably to get things ready for the evening. Lucius stood, nodded at his son, and climbed into the fireplace. A blaze of green, and his father was at the Ministry of Magic. Excellent. Draco wolfed down the last of his breakfast, washed it down with a large glass of juice, and headed back to his bedroom.

Mrs. Sedley was gone, but not before turning down his sheets and changing his curtains. He sat on the bed for a while, pondering his next move. He could take one of the Aethonans and ride. Or take one of his brooms.

In the end, it was the Aethonans. Knowing her, it would be a good choice. He bathed and dressed up, tucking his wand into his robe before heading for the stables housing the winged horses. He chose a young one named Calliope, and saddled her up, unruffling her feathers before hoisting himself upon the seat. The clopping sound of its hoofs matched the pounding in Draco's chest as it moved towards the entrance of the stables.

As soon as the cloudless sky came into view, she took flight, surprising her rider and causing him to hang on her neck. Right now, at the expense of her rider's stomach, she was being playful. Draco clutched at her for dear life as she sailed through the hills and forests. No Muggle would see them, not this far away from the nearest town, anyway.

Seeing a clearing in the forest, he nudged her with his feet and Calliope dived. Draco pulled her reins twice, and she landed on the grass. He tied her to a tree and looked around. Seems like he was alone, the first one to come. He almost wished he didn't. They weren't really friends; she would pretend to not notice him at Hogwarts, and he was only too happy to return the favor. They hardly had anything in common, and talked a couple of times a year.

But he fought the urge to grin like an idiot when she arrived, murmuring some vague reason for being delayed. He did not want her to think that he actually sought her company, sometimes more so than people of his own House. He wrestled with the desire to ask her how she was, and if she was enjoying her summer break. Bringing those up sounded trite.

Her pale blue eyes surveyed his face, like she was seeing a favorite place after leaving for a while. He can't help but notice that her dirty blond hair was longer this year, it being nearly waist-length. She was wearing Muggle clothing; a pale blue shirt, a faded yellow skirt that came down to her ankles, and flat brown sandals. She also still had that ridiculous necklace of Butterbeer corks from Christmas break. Was the horse thrashing around? He craned his neck to look at his pet, but she was standing perfectly still. Where was the thumping coming from?

"Calliope!" She exclaimed, seeing what he was looking at. She approached the horse slowly, and was soon running her hands on its chestnut mane. From a small shoulder bag she produced a lump of sugar, which his horse took to gladly.

"How did you know I'd bring one of the horses?"

"Oh, I just happened to have some sugar. I bring some for the fairy colonies living in the trees around here. Calliope got lucky," she said, brushing the horse's feathers now. She turned back to him, a thoughtful look on her face. She brought her face up close to his and stared, unblinking. He felt a tickle of warmth on his cheeks.

"It's been a while. I didn't think you would come back, Draco Malfoy,"

"Don't get ideas, Lovegood. You just happen to be the least annoying person I know."

"There is that," Luna Lovegood said mildly, turning back to the horse. Immediately, he felt a pang of guilt, which he shook off. He was only telling the truth. He didn't want her looking at him—he starts saying all sorts of stupid things—but he didn't want her to leave, either. He smacks his forehead lightly with his palm. _Get yourself together, Malfoy_, he thought, painfully aware of her eyes on him as he performed the Disillusionment Charm on the horse.

"Are you ready?" she said, stuffing the rest of the sugar cubes back into her pouch. For a second, he had no idea what she was talking about, and then he nodded. "Race you there!" she squealed, tearing into the forest behind them.

He followed her into the woods, all other things forgotten.

* * *

**A/N: If you're reading this, you must have sat through my first (real) attempt at Harry Potter fan fiction. Hooray for the both of us! Please take the time to review; what can I improve? Is Draco too OOC? Is Luna not weird enough? Thanks. :D**


	2. Swimming Partners

**TWO**

**Swimming Partners**

It's not like Malfoy Manor didn't have a lake nearby. It was even an object of pride for his mother, who oversaw the construction of a waterfront villa, and the planting of foliage around the banks. The lake was a constant venue for so many of Narcissa's parties that it was impossible for him to take a decent swim. Not without any of his fellow Slytherins seeing him, anyway. Draco shook his head as he marched through the familiar dirt path Luna and him have taken so many times. She was paces in front of him, humming, head bent over a tangle of vines she grabbed from a tree several minutes ago.

"Are you hunting for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks again this year?" Luna asked. Draco blinked and stifled a snort before he could answer.

"Yeah, I think. Last year we were at the Bulstrodes, I sent you an owl I couldn't come,"

"I did get it. It's okay; I had to visit with friends of family." They came upon another clearing, this one heavy with the sound of a river. Draco looked up at the sky; it must be nearing midday. Down by the water's edge, Luna has discarded her skirt and was lifting her shirt. She had a bathing suit on, which exposed her shoulders and legs. He choked back a cough and looked away, discomfited.

"Come on, Malfoy!" Luna said, wading into the chest-deep water. "It's lovely here,"

Draco stripped to his shorts and dived in. The water curled around his hands and feet, and he stayed under for a while, luxuriating in the feel of cold on his skin. He resurfaced a little later, a couple of arm's lengths away from Luna. She smiled, and unceremoniously splashed him with water. He was caught by surprise, but recovered, and sprayed her in return.

They were children again, spattering each other, squealing when the other gets hit. They were nine and ten again, which was when he first saw her, chubby and wide eyed, arms full of orphaned puppies, a dead mother Crup close by. It was in this forest—he had run away from home after finding out that he would not be sent to Hogwarts, but to Durmstrang. It was hours since he left the gates of the manor, and he was worn out. He followed the sound of the river, wanting a meal, a bath, and some sleep, only to come face to face with this girl.

"I found them like this," she said, lower lip quivering, protuberant blue eyes brimming with tears. For a second, he felt like putting his arm around her. Until his stomach growled, and he remembered his own concerns.

"It's your problem," he said, running to the nearest tree heavy with fruit. He has all but exhausted the supply of biscuits he brought with him. His father's men were hard to shake off, and he couldn't take the time to climb a tree, lest he be seen. He bit into the fleshy skin of this fruit, finishing it, and starting on another. Later, he would have to learn how to trap small animals. He is never coming back home.

Several apples later, he turned to see the girl still sniffling and holding the animals close. Draco approached her hesitantly. When she turned, he blurted out, "Want to swim?"

"W-what?" the girl said, rubbing her eyes with the back of one palm.

"I'm Draco Malfoy. What's your name?"

"Luna. Luna Lovegood."

"Let's swim, Lovegood. Bet you can't, though. You look frail."

"I can too, watch me!"

Just as the sun was dipping into the horizon, the gates of Malfoy Manor opened to a scruffy little figure tailed by two puppies. Narcissa Malfoy swooped down the stone steps leading to the mansion and hugged her son, smoothing the matted blond hair away from his forehead, not minding the dogs licking her ankles.

"What are you thinking of?" Luna's voice broke into Draco's thoughts, and he floated back to the present. He shook his head, his eyes distant.

"Crups," he said.

"Ohh. How are they?"

Draco swam to the shore and sat on the river bank where they left their clothes. He shook the water out of his hair squinted at the branches overhead. "They're fine. Huge appetites," he said, and she chuckled, flopping right beside him. They fell silent like that, side by side on the grass, the sun drying their skin and their hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luna turn to look at him again.

"You know, it isn't apparent under the school robes, but Quidditch has done you good," she said lightly. "No wonder the other girls in my year swoon over you,"

He scoffed, although he thanked Merlin that his red cheeks might be passed off as sun burnt. "I don't care for the opinions of a handful of silly children," he said, sneering. Secretly, he sneaked a look at his reflection in the water. Did he really look better?

"And since when did you care whether I looked alright or not?" He said.

She shrugged. "I don't really. It's just that you're noticeably leaner. And taller, I think."

"Huh." He turned to face her. "Tell me something, Lovegood."

"Yes?" She was wringing water from her hair, her head cocked at an angle, eyes on him.

"Are you not even the slightest bit miffed that the Slytherins call you Loony?"

"It's not only the Slytherins, really. The edge wears off after a while—I used to mind it when I was in first year, but now it's noise in the distance." She stood up, putting her clothes back on. "Are you heading back home already? You can have lunch with us,"

Draco nodded, standing to dress up as well. "We're hosting the hunt, I must be home soon." In truth, he didn't want to come to Luna's house. Not after what happened last Christmas. He rolled his eyes. "I'd have to spend an entire week listening to Crabbe and Goyle prattle about nonsense. I am raring to be there," he said, and she guffawed, which made him smile a tiny bit.

The two headed back for the first clearing, where Draco left Calliope. He stopped short of hoisting himself up on the saddle and turned to Luna, who has gone back to fiddling with those vines.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts, Lovegood,"

"Malfoy," she inclined her head slightly and smiled, turning to the direction of the Lovegood home. He watched her retreating back and opened his mouth, about to say something, but closed it again, frowning as he shook his head. Calliope reared back and flapped her wings, and the pair took to the blue sky.

**A/N: Thanks for reading the second chapter. Coming soon: Astoria makes an appearance!**


	3. Musical Chairs and Other Games

**Chapter Three**

**Musical Chairs and Other Games**

"I want to drown him in a whiskey barrel, Theodore."

"That's not a very bright idea,"

"But oh, would it be satisfying," Draco scowled at Blaise Zabini's back, and faced Theodore Nott, who was lazily poking at a chocolate truffle. The Malfoys' first dinner party for the week was turning out quite well. Nobody has threatened anyone else with a duel, and the gurgle of conversation around the cavernous dinner hall was lively. The string quartet Narcissa hired for the evening struck up a new tune, and Draco could have sworn he saw Severus Snape, his Head of House, slightly sweep his head in time to the music. Two tables down was Draco's mother, deeply in conversation with his aunt Bellatrix, who looked equally engrossed. His father was by one of the windows, nodding distractedly at whatever it was that Cornelius Fudge was looking pained about.

At the far side of the hall, Blaise was talking to a gorgeous witch. He was apparently saying something terribly amusing, because her shoulders were shaking and she had her head thrown back. Blaise caught Draco's eye. For a second, he was surprised—but he smiled and turned back to his friend, leaning closer and whispering something. She pinched his cheek playfully.

Draco wanted, more than anything, to hex that smug look off his face.

"You know that he rarely sticks by his bluster," said Theodore. Draco's eyes narrowed.

"I would like to stick a gnome up his—"

"Draco," a sing-song, high-pitched female voice said behind him. He stifled a groan and stood up to kiss Pansy on the cheek. She practically glowed at this, and took her place beside him. Theodore motioned to the empty seats, and the girls with Pansy took them.

"We were in the garden, the girls and I," Pansy said, after a stretch of silence. Draco wished she didn't open her mouth. Pansy was there to make him look good, not to talk.

"You have beautiful flowers," she tried again, her smile falling a bit. _I'm sure the house elves that take care of those would be pleased, but I don't give a whit,_ he thought. _Of what they think, or how pretty the flowers are or what._

"I'll tell mother," he said pleasantly, and Pansy looked like she was about to faint from joy.

There was one thing he learned in fifteen years of being a Malfoy—how to read minds. Of course, he is not a Legillimens, but in their social circles, one might as well train from birth. Theirs is a world of half-gestures and half-truths and things left partially said. Those who do not pick up on hints find themselves banned from polite society. Accommodate, his mother used to tell him, or be an outcast, and Malfoys are never outcasts.

"Excuse me," said Pansy, simpering, "I have to talk to Nadine Runcorn over there."

_Don't be back soon, _Draco thought. He swept his eyes around the table. To his left, Theodore was talking to Daphne Greengrass, who is in their year. A couple of empty seats to his right, Millicent Bulstrode was laughing at something an unfamiliar girl said.

Draco stared. The girl had dark hair, which she pulled back in a loose bun. Her mouth had a mischievous slant, even when she wasn't speaking, and when she did she tended to gesticulate. Draco moved one chair to sit closer to Millicent, who was snorting in mirth.

"—and suddenly, the dwarves were crying! I swear, it was the first time I saw anything like it, I told my sister Daphne I couldn't go back to Hogsmeade, I was mortified—"

"Daphne," Draco said, loud enough for the group to hear, "I didn't know you had a sister."

The entire table fell silent, but Draco kept his eyes on the girl. He saw some self-consciousness creep into her eyes, although she maintained an amused look on her face. He smiled back.

"Er, yes, Draco, I do. This is Astoria," he heard Daphne say.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm surprised I haven't noticed you before—someone as lovely as you would certainly not escape my notice." He thought she would giggle and be flattered at this, but he was startled to hear a loud guffaw from the elfin girl.

"Do you talk that way to all girls? And they fall for that?" she said between gasps. Daphne looked like she didn't know whether she should laugh or chastise her sister. Millicent has fallen silent, and Draco glanced at Theodore, who shrugged.

"What do you mean by that?" he said, and Astoria opened her mouth to reply when Blaise slid into the empty seat between Millicent and Draco.

"Everyone," he said.

"Blaise! I didn't know you were here," Astoria said, beaming. Draco was taken aback, but he clamped a hand on Blaise's shoulder. He ignored the stiffness there.

"Naturally, Astoria. Blaise and his mother are friends of our family. In fact—" he said, smiling at Blaise, "—I think this is a great time to revive Litha."

"How long has it been?" Theodore mused. "I remember, when we were nine years old, Daphne scared the daylights out of those Muggle children at the town square,"

"I was Queen for the rest of the week," Daphne said fondly. When Astoria looked quizzically at her older sister, she tried to explain, but Draco stood up and interrupted.

"Instead of our sitting here, talking about it," he started, "Why don't we go out and show her?"

_This is shaping up to be a good night_, Draco thought to himself, the hum of voices and the notes of string music fading as he led the group out of the manor. He fell back after the gates opened, watching Astoria have an animated conversation with Blaise.

"So he called you out for not being physical with Pansy. So what?" Theodore fell into step with Draco, resuming their topic before the girls and Blaise descended on their table.

"You're not exactly raring to get into Pansy's knickers, anyway," Theodore added.

"I have to put him firmly in his place." Draco said. "And the best thing is that he is only too willing to dig his own grave."


	4. Head in the Clouds

**Chapter Four**

**Head in the Clouds**

* * *

Seven figures stood in a meadow a few yards off the main manor grounds. Summoning a couple of house elves yielded broomsticks and gloves, enough for each person on the field. Astoria and Pansy, though, elected to stay on the ground.

"What are you celebrating during Litha?" Draco heard Astoria say.

"Skill," Pansy said, "and the first day is always about speed."

Draco swung his leg over his Nimbus Two Thousand-and One and took a deep breath, smiling at the familiar scent of broom polish and dragon hide gloves. Blaise seemed unconcerned about the contest, though, which worried Draco. Did he have an ace up his sleeve? That seemed unconceivable, as Blaise wasn't a big fan of brooms and flying. He was staring absently into the distance, almost like he wished he was somewhere else. Before Draco could snap at him and ask him what his problem was, Pansy's wand erupted in a shower of green and silver stars, signaling the start of the race. The others kicked off, and Draco cursed, taking flight a few seconds after Theodore, Millicent and Daphne.

The wind whistling in his ears was familiar as his own breathing. He was flying before he knew how to walk straight; he would be first, no matter his current placing. Blaise has fallen so far behind; he was about the size of a raisin from where Draco was. Just for fun, he did a double-loop in the air, shouting as he made the second twist. He loved looking at the manor from this high—the black spires and the iron gates seemed like children's toys, the people and animals no more than dolls. He climbed higher, the wind turning frostier with every hundred yards. He imagined the air filling his chest with little icicles. Draco screeched to a halt—the manor was as big as a match box from this high. He turned, looking for the others, and found them near the halfway mark.

He saw Daphne snap a branch off the yew tree they use as a marker, and turn. After almost a minute, Millicent, and then Theodore, does the same. When he turned to get back, Draco pushed the broom forward to plunge. He had to squint to keep his eyes from drying, but he snapped a twig with ease, sailed past Millicent, then Daphne, and had time to slow down before landing in front of Astoria and Pansy.

"No surprise there," Theodore said, landing only seconds after him. He had a half-grin on his face. "King for today, Draco."

"Of course," Draco laughed, as Millicent and Daphne landed and clapped him on the back. Blaise landed a good couple minutes later than everyone else, and by that time, the racers and Theodore were well into a spirited discussion of how biased the first day is towards Draco.

"I still say we should have a new game for the first day, Draco always wins," Daphne said wryly.

"Hey, not my fault. Besides, you all were using the same broom as I," Draco replied. He looked around to see Blaise's reaction, but he had a dutiful smile on his face.

"Great flying, as usual," he said. Draco nodded, but he was very puzzled. Did Blaise just lose on purpose? What for?

"Draco, that was wonderful!" gushed Pansy, who tucked a wildflower into his robes as the group started to leave the meadow. He held her by the waist, which she loved, but he quickly disengaged himself when she tried to slip her hand into his. Draco hung back to wait for Astoria, who was busy fixing her hair into a more manageable ponytail. She had her back to him, and he was surprised at how small she actually was—Daphne almost came up to his forehead, but Astoria was shorter than him by a head. She turned, and gave a start when she realized he was still there. In the dim light of the moon, her sly features seemed smudged, softened even. She held his gaze for a few seconds, and he saw the uncertainty in them. She inclined her head, smiled politely, and started walking. He followed her.

"You never come with the Greengrass family to these hunts," Draco started. "I thought you might need to be with someone on the way back to the manor."

"That's very kind of you, although I'm sure I could've managed well enough by myself," she said. They headed back for the manor, Draco with his broom on one shoulder. Astoria seemed determined to stare straight ahead, at the larger, more riotous group, who were several paces in front of them.

"Why did you not come with your family in the past?"

"I find that manors full of Slytherins have neither respect nor sympathy for a Ravenclaw. Also, it's all dreadfully boring, don't you think? The males blast their Erumpents while the females sit around talking about different fabrics. It's positively _medieval_."

"It's not that bad. I mean, there's Litha."

"Yeah, which is a glorified peeing contest. No offense," she said, but Draco was already pink in the ears. Astoria's starting to sound less attractive by the minute.

"Well, if you stopped being so uptight, maybe you'd have more fun," he countered. She seemed taken aback by this, and he almost felt sorry, until she snorted.

"Unfortunately, you, my sister, and your friends have such a crude definition of 'fun' that I am unable to see what pleasure you derive from it," she said. "Some of you, at least."

He followed her gaze, and sniffed—she was looking at Blaise. _So that's what he's after_, Draco said to himself. _The sneaky, worthless git._ His brows furrowed, and his grip on the broomstick tightened. Astoria, who was looking at him, had an apologetic look on her face.

"Pardon me for being so forward," she said, which snapped Draco out of his reverie.

"What?" he said. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought I may have spoken out of line," she said. Draco did not know how to respond to that. He looked at her, and then at the others, who have just passed the iron gates of the manor. Suddenly, he stopped. Astoria did the same, although she seemed confused. A full minute passed with Draco standing in silence, and he felt her growing increasingly uncomfortable.

"Well, I'll be joining the others, now. Thank you for the walk back," Astoria said. She hurried to catch up with her sister and the others, who by now were likely to be at the front doors of the house. Draco looked at her retreating figure, a thoughtful smile on his face.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated. Hope to update soon~**


	5. Almost Friends

**Chapter Five**

**Almost Friends**

* * *

A couple of minutes passed before Draco realized he was smiling at Astoria's retreating figure. Maybe waiting it out is a good idea. He turned away and lingered at the iron gates of the manor, back against the tall fence covered in vines. Surely, his father or mother was waiting to introduce him to some Ministry official or another. He didn't want to listen to Blaise feign disinterest in their activities, and barring Theodore, no one could really hold a conversation long enough to sustain his interest. Or maybe one other person, but she's too busy hating him to want to talk.

Something was rustling in the bushes near the mouth of the forest. He approached the place where the noise was coming from and peered. He was expecting a gnome, or a wild rabbit, but definitely not a familiar pair of large blue eyes looking around furtively.

"Luna, for crying out loud, what are you doing here?" he said.

The eyes looked disappointed. "You can see me?" Luna shifted—or appeared to—under what seemed to be a thick blanket shimmering with reds and oranges. Every once in a while, the blanket would emit yellow sparks. It gave the impression of her being wrapped in a column of fire. She stepped out of the bush, still wearing the blanket.

"Of course I can see you. And why are you wearing a cursed sheet?"

"Father cast a Bedazzling Hex on it for me. He must've been distracted or something, because it's supposed to work like an Invisibility Cloak."

He knew better than to challenge the golden word of Xenophilius Lovegood. "But why do you need to be invisible? If you wanted to go to the party, you could have just sent me an owl."_Or not, because the Slytherins will eat you alive_, he thought but didn't say aloud.

"I wasn't here for the party." She looked like she was about to watch the final of the Quidditch World Cup, and Draco asked her what she was there for. Her blanket hit Draco's eyes with reflected light as she flailed her hands vigorously.

"I was consulting the Beast Locator in the _Quibbler_, and apparently, there will be a Mooncalf here tonight! Oh, it will be wonderful; you should come and watch it. Also, I promised to bring some of its dung home, for our lettuce patch out back."

After a resolute silence from him, she shrugged. "Well, I'll be on the field right there, that's where the paper said they would be." She pointed towards where he and his friends raced.

"You'd best be back inside your house; you don't want to keep that goblin assassin Cornelius Fudge waiting," she said darkly. "He's there, right? He might take your absence against you and decapitate several Gringotts workers. It'll be horrible on your conscience." For a long time, he stared into those protuberant eyes.

"This had better be worth the trouble, Luna," he said, walking away from the gates.

"Where are your sidekicks?" The two were sitting on the ground, leaning against the fallen tree trunk where Pansy and Astoria sat. Luna discarded the blanket, which now lay in a messy pile nearby.

"Goyle's with his grandmother at St. Mungo's. She fell down a flight of stairs and broke her hip. Crabbe's probably stuffing his face near the food tables."

"That's terrible news about Goyle's grandmum. I would say give her ground Wrackspurt, but I suppose the Healers know that already. Oh!"

Luna sighed. A crinkling at the corners of her eyes, a flutter of translucent lashes—she was riveted. The Mooncalves were padding onto the grass, one by one, as if waking up from a spell. They looked like wispy tigers with sleek grey fur, and their spindly legs rustled through the overgrowth, flattening the grass behind them. Where they walked, a silvery film remained in the air, and their brilliant black eyes sparkled like Galleon-sized beetles. They seemed to move like clockwork; the effect was quite hypnotizing.

He has not seen Mooncalves in person—he dimly remembered a painting in his grandfather's study—but Draco was more interested in the expression on Luna's face. There was an unfamiliar tightening in his throat and dryness in his mouth. He's probably thirsty from the broom race. That does not explain his pressing need to get away from her, however. And he did. He wanted to run back to the gates, through the doors, past his parents' guests, and back in his room. He wanted to turn away, so he scooted to give several meters of space between them. As he did this, the Mooncalves promptly disappeared in gently coiling and uncoiling clouds.

"Oh no, lovelies! Come back!" Luna ran up to the field and tried to grab at the air where the creatures were. She turned to Draco.

"I told you we should have used the invisibility cloak." She dropped to her knees and started pushing aside the tallest blades of grass. "If they left any presents for us, at least I can take it home for the plants. Do you have a burlap sack on you I can use for the dung?"

"No. No, I do not carry around bits of burlap at all times."

"Well, they did not leave anything, anyway. Guess I'll wait at their next location—I'll also have father concentrate on the hex better; that way, I can watch the entire Mooncalf dance."

She walked up to him, and Draco felt faint. He must have that glass of water _now. _He watched her take his hands in hers and squeeze them. Her palm was dry and smooth and surprisingly warm, and he hadn't noticed before how tiny her hands were.

"You are a good almost-friend, Draco Malfoy."

"I have to get back to the party," he managed to say.

"Okay," she said serenely, dropping his hands. They felt leaden at his sides. He watched her scoop the blanket up and drape it around herself, tying the ends up front like a riding cape. She waved cheerfully at him before running back into the woods. He shook his head and turned to head back to the manor when he came face to face with Astoria Greengrass.

He froze, and she regarded him with a wry smile. "So, your tastes run loopier than I thought," she said. He scowled at her and stomped away. How long was she there? Why did he not sense her? And heavens—she saw him with Loony Lovegood!

"I guess Parkinson has no idea you fancy Luna, or she'd be trying to make that girl's life hell."

"I don't _fancy _her, alright? And who cares what Pansy thinks," he muttered.

"Come off it, Malfoy." Astoria rolled her eyes as they passed the gates and walked up the bricked pavement leading to the marble steps of the manor. "It's painfully obvious. Although to your credit, you cover it up excellently at school. I've never even seen you _talk _to Luna."

"I am not covering up anything. And Lovegood's a Pureblood, why should I not speak with her? We run in different social circles is all."

"Because she's a weirdo, that's why. Or at least, most of Hogwarts thinks so. Personally, I find her alright. She helps me out with Transfiguration, and she's a sport about the whole Loony thing."

"She's not a weirdo!" Draco shouted. Instead of frightening Astoria, this only made her smile wider, which infuriated him. Why is this girl so annoying? "She's just been fed outrageous theories by her father, and she idolizes him."

"Tell you what," Astoria said, a thoughtful look on her face. "Why don't I give you everything I know about Luna, and you help me get Blaise off my back?"

"I thought you liked Blaise."

"Not really. I'm just don't know how to tell people to sod off."

"So you're saying I should pretend to pursue you, in exchange for information on how to interact properly with Luna Lovegood?"

"Well, yes." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I can tell you need a lot of help in that department. And I need help in shrugging off your friend Blaise. What do you say?"

His mind shot back to last Christmas at the Lovegoods', to their summers together, to the feel of her hands clasping his, to the way her eyes crinkle at the sides. He nodded gravely at Astoria, who beamed and flashed him a thumbs-up.

"That's the spirit," she said, as they walked through the front doors. "Let's do this!"

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated~**


	6. Movement

**Chapter Six**

**Movement**

* * *

The next morning saw Draco and his friends at the lake near the Malfoys' manor. The hunting party had gone off into the forests, where the herd of Erumpents had been released. His mother gave him a disapproving look when he said he wouldn't be joining, but relented when he expressed his wishes to entertain his friends in his way for the remainder of their visit.

"Why shouldn't we continue our games? I have a few ideas for the next rounds," Daphne said, as they walked towards the Malfoys' second house. Draco, as per agreement, walked beside Astoria, and occasionally regaled her with stories of his Quidditch training. He felt Blaise's eyes boring into his skull.

"Because, Daphne, it's a glorified pissing contest," he drawled. From the corner of his eye, he saw Astoria bow her head, and he knew she was trying to hide a smile.

"You just don't want to lose the next rounds," countered Theodore, and Draco shot him a look.

"I know I can win the next ones, I don't have to prove it," he said. "Besides," he added, as he weaved his way to the front of the group, "I thought you all wanted to swim for a bit. _You_ wanted the lake house."

They stopped in front of the mahogany doors, and they were greeted by two house elves, who ushered them in. The house was smaller than the manor, but no less lavish. It was octagonal, with soaring ceilings, enormous windows, and a central area to which all the rooms and halls opened. They crossed the atrium and reached a hall that opened into the lake, and the others lost no time divesting themselves of their robes and plunging into the water, whooping and yelping as they did.

"You're not joining them?" Astoria said. They stopped at the entrance of the lakeside hall, at the top of the stairs leading outside. Draco shook his head, leaning against a pillar.

"I don't like swimming here," he replied. Pansy and Daphne were roaring with laughter as they took turns floating leaves under Crabbe's nose, who was sneezing each time.

* * *

"Tell me about Lovegood," Draco said.

Astoria was looking at the other boys, who were at the water's edge, having a spirited discussion about the effectiveness of various countercurses.

"Sleepwalking," she said after a while. "She sleepwalks."

"Does she really?" he said, and she nodded.

"I found out in my and Luna's third year, during the Triwizard tournament. We had to sleep in her dormitory bed because one of the Beauxbatons girls couldn't sleep in the carriages, and I had given her mine for the duration of their visit. We'd tucked ourselves in, and I was drifting off to sleep, when I felt her just sort of slip down the other side. I thought she fell out of bed, and I leaned over to pull her back up. Turns out, she was ambling halfway across the room."

Draco smiled. "What happened then?"

"I got out of bed of course. I tapped her shoulder before she got to the door. She just turned, blinked, and said good night to me before heading back to bed. Like it was the most natural thing in the world."

At the lake, Blaise and Theodore had joined the rest of the group. They have given up tickling Crabbe and were now attempting to enclose each other in giant bubbles of water.

Astoria turned to Draco, her hands on her hips. "Your turn," she said.

"My turn to do what?"

"Hold up your part of the bargain. Remember? Give you something about Luna, help me with my problem." Draco shook his head.

"You told me something, but I don't know how I can use that to talk to her. 'Hi, Lovegood, heard you sleepwalk. How's that like?' I don't see it happening, Greengrass."

"Oh, you'll find it useful somehow. At least it's something."

"Well, what do you want me to do? Hex him? Have someone 'warn' him away from you?"

Astoria exhaled slowly, like she was talking to a five-year-old who can't grasp the difference between a rectangle and a square. "No. Make it clear that I'm unavailable," she said. Draco looked at Blaise. He was swirling a ribbon of water around Pansy, who was shrieking with delight.

"I know exactly how," Draco said.

* * *

Upon his orders, one of the house elves brought them a wireless, and he turned the dial to a station playing slow music. Deftly, he took one of Astoria's hands, sliding his other hand around her middle. He noticed the grimace playing on the corners of her lips.

"Don't worry. This is strictly business," he said, and her cheeks flushed with color.

"Why would I think otherwise?" she hissed violently, and he shrugged.

They danced to the music—or rather, Draco tried to lead his partner, but she was resisting. Astoria was moving so stiffly that he had to repeatedly remind her why they were doing this. Pretty soon, they were swaying in larger circles. Draco wasn't looking at the lake, but he knew that the rest have stopped horsing around and were watching them.

"Show a bit of sunshine, they're onto us," he said, forcing a smile on his face.

"I'm trying, but I could hardly do that when you have two left feet," she said through her teeth.

"Two left—! That's a bit rich of you to say when you feel like a bunch of twigs in my arms," he whispered. He held her at arm's length, and she did a haphazard sort of twirl, stumbling on the foot shift. He shook his head and brought her back in.

"It's like I'm dancing with a trout," he said under his breath.

"Trout, twigs, make up your mind," she said, leaning into him.

"Trout fashioned from twigs," he retorted, bowing at her as the song ended.

The group at the lake erupted into cheers, and Draco tipped an imaginary hat at them. He saw Pansy glowering amid the group of catcallers—he'll deal with that later.

He was pleased to see Blaise less than pleased, though, and he turned to share a conspiratorial wink with Astoria, only to see her looking at her toes. What is she shy about all of a sudden?

"That's my little sister, Malfoy," Daphne yelled out, smiling. She was about to say more, but was hushed by the look Pansy was giving her. Draco caught Astoria's eye and pointed towards the group, and she nodded. They walked to the water's edge.

"Don't worry, I was only keeping her company. Astoria's terribly interesting, and I'd hate for her to feel unwelcome at my place," he said. The girl inclined her head to concede, but couldn't say any more under Pansy's furious glare.

"Why don't we all head back inside? Lunch will be served soon." Draco turned to walk back to the house. He stopped mid-stride, however, and seemed to be deciding upon something. After a couple of seconds, he proffered his arm to Astoria, who looped her hand around it. The lake erupted anew with jokes and boisterous laughter, and it followed them into the house.

"I have to hand it to you," Astoria said as they reached the atrium, "You know how to make a point. Although, Pansy looked about ready to murder me back there."

"Are you scared? Do you want to renege on our agreement?"

They heard the lakeside hall fill with many voices chattering—the others have finished their swim. Astoria held up her index finger and met his eye. When the group seemed to be near enough to see them, she drew her finger from Draco's forehead down to the tip of his nose, tapping it twice.

"No, Mr. Malfoy. Let us proceed," she whispered, before skipping off and joining the rest, who have rounded a corner and entered another room. Draco shook his head and sauntered towards the dining area, where they all were. He might be able to charm some of them, but he doesn't think he'll ever completely understand girls.

He scratched his nose, which felt tingly for some reason.

* * *

**Please tell me what you think-reviews are appreciated!**


End file.
